


Flames Of Passion

by Mars_McKie



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 07:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21012119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: While lost in the ruins by the Rock of Ravatogh, Ignis stumbles upon an altar dedicated to Ifrit- considered in ancient times to be the Astral of Fire, Love and Sex.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Infernian's Vessel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223759) by [Oronir_Caragai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oronir_Caragai/pseuds/Oronir_Caragai). 

> This work was originally part of my Kinktober 2019 fics, which I've now had to stop as life is taking over. I'm splitting up the few works I did write to make them easier to locate, and I might try to return to a few prompts near the end of the month.
> 
> I've had the idea for this fic floating around in my head for a while so I'm glad I finally got the motivation to write it!

Ignis summoned his daggers but Ardyn was too fast, moving through his attack like smoke on air, and succeeded in grabbing Ignis’s wrist and pinning it to corner of the stone altar. The cuff there closed magically around his wrist and suddenly Ignis’s movement was badly restricted.

He spun his dagger around in his free hand and slashed out, but Ardyn tackled him backwards onto the altar, the ash that laid there sent up in clouds. In the second that Ignis was winded, Ardyn was on top of him, straddling his hips and pulling his other wrist into a second cuff. Both arms secured either side of his head, Ignis thrashed his body but the ancient metal restraints held fast, the single metal ring allowing his arms to move only a few inches.

“Ardyn!” Ignis huffed out, glaring up at the smirking man above him. “Let me go at once!”

“I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be making demands,” Ardyn grinned. He leaned forward to brush his fingers along Ignis’s jawline and he couldn’t help but cringe back as far as the stone slab would allow. In a quick flash of blue, Ignis dispersed his daggers into the armiger and his polearm appeared in his hand, slicing through several layers of Ardyn’s scarves.

Ardyn rolled sideways off the altar, examining the damage dealt to his coat with minor annoyance. “I can see I’ll need to keep my distance with you. No matter...”

Ignis tried to kick out as Ardyn moved into range, but Ardyn easily grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down the table (the movement sending the polearm back into the armiger and causing his trousers to give him a wedgie), cuffing his ankle to the third corner.

If only he could get an arm free, Ignis thought desperately, he could mount some form of defence. He looked up at the cuffs securing his wrists, thinking maybe if he summoned his daggers he could drive them into the link securing him to the altar, but the angle was too steep. His arms were too far apart to attempt it on the other side, and he risked slicing that hand off if he summoned his polearm. That was soon looking like his last resort.

He pulled his last free leg up to his hip, out of Ardyn’s reach but the other man merely tutted and walked up the table. The scuffle was short lived as Ardyn forcibly fixed Ignis’s final limb in place.

Ignis was only too aware of the vulnerable position he had been put in- their enemy now his captor in these old ruins with no way of knowing if his friends were nearby to help him. The rockslide in these ruins by the Rock of Ravatogh had forced him here, looking for a way back to the party, though he pondered at the coincidence of Ardyn waiting for him by the ancient altar.

The stone offered no comfort beneath him and the seat of his trousers was uncomfortably tight from where they had been dragged up. A tug to his foot drew his attention and looking down he saw Ardyn removing Ignis’s brogues.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ignis bit out through gritted teeth.

“You’ve kept your possessions so well, it would be a shame for anything to happen to them,” Ardyn replied with a smile. Ignis couldn’t work out if it was meant to be sinister or not, though as his shoes fell away he couldn’t help but feel like he’d lost a part of his armour.

“Release me, Ardyn!”

“Now why would I want to do that?” Ardyn asked, now moving up to tug at Ignis’s belt.

“I will not be your sacrifice!” Ignis said fiercely.

“But we’re going to have so much fun here together!” Ardyn said, his voice taking on a sing song tone as the belt slid free. Before Ignis could question further, the statue of the astral Ifrit the Infernian drew their attention as its hands burst into flames. “Ah! He’s awake!”

“What’s happening?” Ignis stared in alarm.

“These are quite the curious ruins you and your friends have stumbled upon,” Ardyn explained. “They date back several thousand years to the time when Ifrit was considered the god of fire, love and sex- the phrase ‘flames of passion’ exist for a reason, as you will soon find out.”

Ignis opened his mouth to question further, but stopped short as he felt the temperature rise in his body. He felt flushed as if he had a fever; his face burned and heat pooled in his groin, making him twitch in interest despite himself.

“What- what’s going on?” Ignis squirmed, and while he was distracted Ardyn was able to reach over to pluck Ignis’s glasses from his face. “Ardyn!”

“Yes, Ignis dear?” Ardyn grinned, moving away from the altar and setting the glasses with his shoes and belt at the foot of the statue.

Ignis was struck by the sudden impression of something moving over his skin underneath his clothing, and he cried out in alarm when he saw holes being burnt in his pinstripe shirt. He struggled against his bindings, but was forced to watch as the flames burned away his shirt, trousers, socks and underwear, leaving him naked on the altar.

“Such a fine body you keep hidden away,” Ardyn murmured circling around to admire the view. Ignis gritted his teeth. The least that could be said was that his skin seemed unaffected by this magical fire, though as he observed the flames moving across his body -their path feeling like tongues trailing across his skin- his skin burned in a sensitive state and as these tongues of flame moved they sparked pleasure in his mind.

_Not like this_, Ignis silently prayed. _Not in front of Ardyn..._

The flames seemed to suss out the most erogenous spots on his body- curling across his ribs to get to his nipples, licking up his neck, creeping across the insides of his thighs...

Ignis shut his eyes but he was unable to shut out the sensations assaulting his senses because _Dammit! It felt good!_

One of the tongues of flame snaked down towards his groin and he felt himself grow hard. Ignis threw his head side to side, trying to fight off the urge to give himself over to pleasure when the flames on his thighs licked up and poked around his puckered hole.

At the same time the tongue of flame pushed into his hole, the other tongue licked up his erection and Ignis let slip a ragged moan.

“Mmm,” Ardyn hummed, and through his lashes Ignis saw him angling his head to admire the sight, and despite the deep heat Ignis felt himself blush under the attention. The distance of the ankle cuffs meant he was unable to close his legs, giving Ardyn the view Ignis could only imagine of the fire penetrating his ass. Perhaps if Ardyn hadn’t been there then Ignis might have been truly able to appreciate his position, but then without Ardyn he wouldn’t have been in this position.

The fire in his ass brushed against his prostate and Ignis’s eyes flew open, his back arched up off the altar and a loud, low moan was drawn from deep within his body as he was given the best prostate massage of his life. The flames tickled around his balls and flared up around his cock, causing a pressurised state which Ignis thrust up into. Perhaps if he was brought to orgasm then Ifrit’s flames would be sated, and Ardyn would be satisfied to let him go...

With this goal in mind, Ignis allowed himself to let his inhibitions slip. He focused on the statue of Ifrit and the sensations crawling over his body, a flame licking up into his mouth to spar with his tongue, and he was close, so close...

Ignis’s back arched and his toes curled with the force of his orgasm hitting him and he shot his load into the air, only for it to evaporate before it hit his stomach. His pleasured cries were muffled by the flame in his mouth and each moan was wrought out from deep within him. His eyes rolled up into his head as the relief and pleasure crashed over him in waves, spilling his seed into the fire until he had nothing left to give.

And yet the flames carried on.

“Who knew the advisor to the Prince could be so vocal,” Ardyn smiled. Ignis tried to speak around the flames stuffing his mouth but the sound came out incoherent. Disgruntled, he tried to indicate his wrists, praying that Ardyn intended to let him go.

“Oh, there’s no stopping the spell,” Ardyn said lightly. “Ifrit’s fire is insatiable, hence those offered to him are ‘consumed by the flames of passion’, if you will. I believe in ancient times they would have a priest stand by to free the sacrificial lamb, should this activity be pursued for enjoyment rather than punishment.”

Ignis panicked, remembering the ashes that had laid on the altar before him and -as Ardyn showed no inclination towards freeing him- realised his fate led that same way. The fires continued to work his oversensitive body, teasing him through his refractory period and bringing him to reluctant orgasm twice more. The second time he came he produced barely a trickle of cum, the third time he was completely dry. He cried out, desperately praying to be rescued, but his tears evaporated before they even fell down his cheeks

He was fast getting to a point where he had nothing left to give and he felt his body tiring, slipping into a weakened state where he would be of no use whatsoever. He wondered at what point the flames would realise this and start to consume him, when Ardyn -who had been circling to admire the best views up to that point- suddenly said after Ignis's shaky third orgasm, “I’m afraid all good things must come to an end, so I shall bid you adieu for now, dear Ignis.”

Ignis looked up in alarm as Ardyn walked from the alcove, leaving Ignis secured to the altar. Though his captor was now gone, Ignis lacked any strength to mount any form of escape plan. His vision was starting to blur around the edges, though he could see and feel the flames spread the full length of his body. His end would be blissful to the last ember.

Somebody somewhere was calling his name. Ignis forced himself to focus and he saw Noctis, Gladio and Prompto run into the small alcove, each pause in shock at the situation he was in, before Gladio brought the hilt of his sword down by one of the wrist cuffs, destroying the metal link.

The cuff fell away and Ignis felt the flames starting to abate as Gladio destroyed each link in quick succession. The suffocating heat finally gave way to cool air, he heard the crack of some form of curative and he might have came once more in sheer relief from the icy spell, before he finally blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftercare and an unwanted visitor after the events of the last chapter

The world around him was a blissed out blur and Ignis lost all concept of time. He was vaguely aware of arms manoeuvring him, the movement of travel, the softness of blankets, all interwoven by the sensations of his body as he was pulled under by waves of ecstasy and heat over and over again. Ifrit’s spell was proving difficult to escape and for so long Ignis lacked the consciousness to even try.

It was some time before Ignis finally regained his sense of self, the world beginning to solidify around him. His eyes felt crusty as he cracked them open and stared up at the bland ceiling of a cheap motel. His body was cocooned in the bedsheets, so with the minimum amount of effort involved he turned his head towards the only noise in the room and saw his companions sat around the table with a game of cards. As Noctis looked up he locked eyes with him and the Prince cried, “Ignis!”

Gladio and Prompto looked around, and on seeing him awake they all stood up and moved towards him. Gladio signalled for the other two to keep back and give him some space as he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand to Ignis’s clammy forehead.

“The fever has finally broke, that’s good,” Gladio said, and Ignis groaned. “How do you feel?”

Ignis tried to get a sense of the state of his body, though the dryness of his mouth was the most overwhelming. “Water,” he croaked.

Gladio nodded and Prompto hastened to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. Ignis tried to shift himself, but ultimately allowed Gladio to assist him into a seated position. As he moved, he became aware of the tightness due to wearing underwear and the wetness around his crotch.

_Oh great_, he thought sarcastically. _He’d had a wet dream_.

He cringed as he leaned back against Gladio’s chest and opened his mouth to allow Prompto to slowly tip the contents down his throat. With each swallow of the cool water he became more alert, though still quite feeble from the lack of sustenance.

Once the water was gone, Ignis gasped and collected his thoughts.

“It wasn’t a dream, was it?” Ignis asked.

“No,” Gladio said behind him, grounding Ignis firmly in reality. “Am I right in thinking you didn’t get on that altar willingly?”

“You would be correct,” Ignis said through gritted teeth. “Ardyn was there, waiting in ambush.”

“That explains a lot,” Prompto murmured. Ignis looked at him quizzically.

“We were looking for a way through to you for ages,” Noctis explained. “We tried to double back and look for another way around, then suddenly there was a door in the wall where there hadn’t been one before and it led us straight to you.”

“Ah.” Ignis clenched his fists. He didn’t know if he should be relieved that Ardyn had not intended for him to die on that altar, or so it seemed. “How long was I out for?”

“Three days,” Noctis said, and Ignis stared in alarm. “We got this place paid up for. The usual curatives didn’t have much effect and... er... we had to clean you up a couple of times...”

The awkwardness of his tone clearly implied that this wasn’t the only time during those three days that Ignis had ejaculated during his fever-fuelled stupor. He went to push his glasses up his nose in order to cover his blush, only to find they weren’t there. The memory returned to him of Ardyn removing them at the altar.

“Ah, here...” Prompto said, handing Ignis his glasses from the bedside table. “They were left there with your shoes and belt, but none of your other things were there-”

“They got burned off. Blast, that was one of the few shirts I had,” Ignis said. The pinstripe shirt had been tailor-made in Insomnia, as had the trousers, so finding replacements would be a pain.

“Do I dare ask what the point of that was?” Gladio asked, his chest rumbling with suppressed anger.

“Ardyn said it’s an altar to Ifrit the Infernian, who was once worshiped as a love god,” Ignis repeated drolly. He tried to sit up of his own accord but was hit with a dizzy spell and his stomach growled, making it known that he hadn’t eaten anything for three days.

“Easy,” Gladio growled. “Relax for two seconds, would you? You rest up and we’ll get some food. Think you could handle some soup?”

Ignis nodded. “Get some bread too.”

“Alright.” Gladio helped ease Ignis back down onto the pillows. He wanted to get up and get himself clean, but that would unfortunately have to wait as the exhaustion in his body pulled him back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

He woke up some time later feeling much fresher. A cursory glance about the room showed only Prompto sat on the opposite bed, who sat up on noticing he was awake.

“Hey!” Prompto said, his tone hesitant. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Ignis admitted. He felt a lot less clammy and the stiffness of his underwear was at least proof he hadn’t come again in his sleep. “Nothing that couldn’t be remedied with a shower, a fresh set of underwear and some food.”

“Noct and Gladio are still fetching dinner,” Prompto said his eyes wide as he fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He seemed slightly awkward, and Ignis wondered if perhaps Prompto didn’t know how to act around him after the ordeal he had been found in.

“Prompto, please don’t feel that you need to behave in any certain way around me. If anything bothers me I will be sure to let you know, as always. Nothing has changed,” Ignis said bluntly, though not unkindly, and Prompto did indeed bounce at his words.

“Right, sorry!” he grinned. “I just wanted to say, how we found you was really hot. I mean, obviously you were on fire!”

Ignis smirked, appreciating the bad pun. “Ifrit brought the heat and it was certainly hot to handle.”

Prompto laughed and edged closer on his bed. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was it like?”

Ignis’s lips parted in surprise at the direct question, wondering how much he should share with his friend. He blushed slightly as he remembered back to his incarceration, to the tongues of flame exploring his body and bringing him bliss over and over again...

“It was like having an over-attentive lover,” Ignis admitted. “Like someone with the intention of making me feel good regardless of how I felt on the matter.”

Prompto nodded, not saying anything.

“I would go so far as to call it pleasurable had the circumstances been different, and if Ardyn hadn’t been watching, the slimy git,” Ignis said, the man’s name like venom on his tongue.

“Yeah,” Prompto murmured. Ignis’s stomach growled loudly again. “I should go check on the guys, make sure they didn’t get lost finding the food!”

“That’s fine,” Ignis said, swinging his legs out of the bed. He desired to start doing his usual routine to make himself feel less clammy. “I’m going to have a shower and get some fresh clothing on.”

“No worries, I’ll be back in a bit!” Prompto said with a wave and swiftly departed out the door as Ignis made for the shower on wobbly legs.

Outside in the corridor, Prompto grinned. _Over-attentive lover... would go so far as to call it pleasurable..._ It was good to know Ignis had enjoyed himself to some extent. It had been such a cathartic kick to watch the stuck up advisor come completely undone, and a privilege to make it happen. He ignored the personal insult to himself and set off down the corridor, his long coat and magically repaired scarves flapping around him, before the Prince and his two friends were due to return from their errand.


End file.
